


Credit Where Credit is Due

by matrixrefugee



Category: Castle
Genre: Gen, Metafiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-20
Updated: 2019-04-20
Packaged: 2020-01-15 19:37:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18505684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/matrixrefugee/pseuds/matrixrefugee
Summary: The Nikki Heat series bugs Beckett, but the afterwords warm her heart.





	Credit Where Credit is Due

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [Castle, Castle/Beckett, the afterword of any Nikki Heat book.](http://fic-promptly.dreamwidth.org/163974.html?thread=7356550&format=light#cmt7356550)

Of all the things that Castle wrote, perhaps in Beckett's eyes, the most irritating and yet the most endearing were the lengthy afterwords that came at the end of each and every Nikki Heat book that he banged out. It seemed he gave a shout out and or a thank you to half of New York City -- editors, agents, publishers, fellow writers -- and dozens of people from elsewhere. Some of the names she recognized, some she did not. Some of the shout outs and words of praise made her smile: the way he gushed over his mother Martha and to Alexis was sweet and a sure sign of his devotion to his family. She had to smile at the shout outs to Ryan and Esposito and the brotherly kidding around, as well as the compliments to Lainey, despite the unsettling nature of their usual encounters.

But the words of praise for her, Beckett, made her want to face palm at times, and smile at the same time. It was as if he was honestly trying to compliment her, but at the same time embarrass her even further, as if the fact that he had based the main character of the series was not embarrassment enough.

And yet something twigged her attention: He always included one paragraph of names, first names only and ones which she did not recognize.

"Castle, do I want to know who these people are?" she asked, looking up from the advance reader's copy of the next book, which for once, Castle had had the decency to let her see before the book went to the presses.

"Who which people are?" Castle asked, not sentencing properly, likely due to the way she had caught him off guard.

" 'To Nathan, Stana, Seamus, Jon, Penny, Molly, Susan and Tamala -- your tireless professionalism make every day a joy'," Beckett read out loud before turning the book pages up and holding it under his nose. "Fans of yours I haven't met?"

"Group of actors I know: they're working on a crime comedy-romance-drama-thing show," he fumbled. "It's still in the works. Not sure if it's gonna be a hit or not, but they're having fun with what they're doing and they're passionate about what they do."

"Well, it takes more than passion to be successful at anything," she said, incredulous.

"But it sure helps to fuel the inspiration," he argued. "Would you be the successful detective you are today, if you hadn't had that desire for justice, that drive to see innocent victims avenged and criminals rightfully punished?"

She eyed him patiently: turning the conversation away from himself. Castle was rather clearly hiding something, but she was not about to ask what. Would she really want to know the answer to her line of querying? "That's true. But you need a lot more than passion to get the results you need, whatever they are: you need skill, and I hope these actor friends of yours and the rest of their crew have skill they need to be successful at whatever they're doing."

And it dawned on her: the talk of a series of Nikki Heat movies had died down recently, particularly since the death of Montgomery and Gates's appointment to the precinct. And now there was talk about a group of actors working on a new crime procedural. That felt too close for comfort, but it was not as if she could really do much to block the production. And she might just be spinning a theory as wild as any of Castle's crazy ideas inspired by the oddest crime scenes, based on something flimsy, something she had pulled out of one of his afterwords...


End file.
